Wicked Harmony

Chapter 10 | Sin

Chapter 10

Sin

I ’m pretty sure I’m missing something as we ride the elevator in silence.

“Is Micah sick or something?” I ask. I noticed the way his hands were trembling in the car and how he kept spasming the entire time. “Or has he got a phobia of traveling?”

It looked like he was in physical pain and I guess that’s why we’ve stopped so early today.

“Micah’s an empath,” Iri replies, barely glancing up from his phone, where he’s texting someone with gusto. “He feels everything we’re feeling.”

It takes a second for that to sink into my brain. That sounds... horrific.

“Everything?” I ask.

“Yep,” Cal grunts. “It gets overwhelming when he’s around crowds or he doesn’t get a break from it.”

“But... you guys gig in front of thousands of people.”

“Somehow, that’s more bearable for him.” Cal shrugs.

The elevator dings and I stumble out onto the penthouse floor, gazing around at the opulence and trying not to let my jaw drop.

This is where we’re staying? It’s bigger than five of my apartments. There’s a sitting room and enough bedrooms for all of us. I hadn’t really thought about any of the logistics to joining the band on tour, but I guess if this is the kind of place they’ll be staying, I won’t complain.

Iri disappears to make a phone call and Dorian spins on his heel and heads for a bedroom without a word, leaving me alone with Cal.

“Pick any bedroom you like. We’ll probably order some food in soon and then head out later,” Cal tells me with a kind smile.

“Head out?”

He nods. “When things are bad like this, Micah needs an outlet. We’ll find someplace to play to a crowd, and that should get him through the next few days.”

It’s hitting me that I know nothing about these guys. All the information Ally and Lila shared wasn’t exactly useful stuff, and I wonder how much of this is common knowledge and how much they’re trusting me here.

Although, it’s not like I have anyone to tell.

Cal squeezes my shoulder and I head off to find a bedroom to dump my stuff in. I take a quick shower, washing off the grime from the drive. When I’m done, there’s a tap at the door to my bedroom and I swing it open, revealing Iri.

“We have a last-minute gig down at The Smokeshow tonight. Should be a hundred people there if you want to come along too,” he says.

I nod. “It’d be good to see you guys performing live, and it might give me some ideas for your bigger gigs on the tour.”

He taps the doorframe. “See you in a couple of hours, then.”

I’m then left alone, lost in thought. My mind wanders back to Micah sequestered away in the gym, away from everyone. I wish I’d known what he was struggling with while we were in the car. I could have done something to help him.

I still can .

I’ve spent long enough hiding my powers and prioritizing self-preservation over everything else. Micah seems nice. Gentle. And he’s hurting right now, but I have an idea of how I might help him.

Without telling the others where I’m going, I slip out of the suite and head for the hotel gym.

I find it pretty quickly, keeping my steps light and hurried like I’m afraid someone’s going to catch me in the act and tell me my idea’s a bad one. Stepping into the large, air-conditioned gym, my eyes take in the space and the equipment before landing on the huddled figure in one corner.

Micah’s eyes are closed when I enter, but quickly flick open. His tongue darts out and I can see it’s longer than a human’s and forked at the end, kind of like a snake. He shoots me a wan smile and makes to get up but I hold out my hand to stop him.

“Working out?” he asks. His normally melodic voice sounds more strained than usual.

“No. Me and workouts don’t really go in the same sentence,” I tell him. “I, er, spoke to the guys about the car ride here.” I’m feeling supremely uncomfortable, fully aware that he can probably sense that which is only making things worse.

“The cabin’s pretty big,” he replies. “I just need some time to decompress.”

“Right.” I nod. “I have an idea that might help you.”

He raises an eyebrow, barely moving his head as though he’s struggling with a migraine.

“I don’t know if Dorian told you about what happened when we met in the elevator,” I continue. “But I have... some magic. My mom was human, and I never met my dad, so whatever type of supe he was is a mystery to me. I can, uh, pump out different emotions. I can’t, like, control your mind or anything, but I can sway how you’re feeling or for you, I could dampen things a bit if they’re overwhelming? ”

I’m babbling and I know it, but I’ve spent so long either hating my magic or pretending like it doesn’t exist, I’m feeling a lot of things about using it explicitly.

But Dorian’s words from yesterday stuck in my brain like a barb. There’s so many things I could do with my magic that aren’t outright manipulation or for other people’s gain.

I could actually help people feel better.

Like Micah, right now.

He can clearly sense all the mess of emotions that are churning through my insides and he smiles softly, reaching out to squeeze my hand.

“Thank you. I appreciate the thought. But I don’t want you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

“It’s fine.” I shake my head. “I guess it’s just like tensing muscles I’m not used to using. It might feel a little weird, but that’s not a bad thing.”

He eyes me carefully for a moment and I take a second to scan his features. Up close, he’s still breathtakingly beautiful, like he was sculpted by the gods. But I also notice smaller details that I hadn’t taken in before. There are lines around his eyes and his skin is paler than usual. His hands are still shaking slightly and it’s making me want to pull him into a hug.

“Shall we try this, then?” I ask, taking a steadying breath and sliding to the floor beside him.

“If that’s what you want, we’ll try it,” he says.

I nod, fully aware he’s humoring me right now. It tells you a lot about someone for them to be in pain, but to go along with someone else’s bullshit. If it were the other way around, I’d have told him to fuck off and leave me alone. But he’s a better person than I am, that’s for sure .

I take hold of his hand and squeeze it between both of mine, closing my eyes and feeling my way to the well of magic that lives just below my ribs.

I then focus my power directly at Micah, all the comforting, cozy feelings I can pull up at a moment’s notice.

The feeling of sitting on a cushioned window seat while it drizzles outside, a blanket around my legs and a book in my lap.

A steaming cup of thick hot chocolate, made from pure chocolate flakes and with the milk slowly heated over the stove.

A picnic blanket under a shaded tree in the spring sunshine.

There’s a sharp intake of breath and he squeezes my hand.

“Sin.” His voice is hoarse and I snap my eyes open.

His lips part in shock. “That’s you?” he asks.

I nod, keeping my concentration on lowering the flow of magic to a trickle of comfort, a hand stroking his hair as he lays his head in someone’s lap.

“Holy fuck, that’s amazing,” he breathes.

I can’t help smiling, especially when he gifts me with a delighted smile, his expression clearing like all the pain has melted away.

“Thank you, Sin. Fuck. Seriously. I can’t tell you how good that feels. Like going from being one second from a meltdown to feeling... safe.”

My gut twists—but it’s pleasure, not unease—unfurling inside me. That feeling expands on itself when he gets to his feet, pulling me up and linking our fingers together.

A FEW HOURS LATER AND I’m in the middle of The Smokeshow, a little underground club that seems to mostly cater to a non-human audience. The band hasn't come on yet, and I sip my drink and gaze around the room. There is a group of nymphs dancing together and a pair of vampires sit in one dark corner, staring stonily out at the room. I sit perched at one corner of the stage where I’ve got a good view of both the band and the audience.

It’s kind of dingy in here, the floors are sticky and the air smells sweet, but the atmosphere is upbeat.

Then someone hops up on stage. She’s gorgeous, with flawless brown skin and she’s wearing an amazing blue jumpsuit that sparkles under the lighting.

I’m once again dressed in overalls. They’re my nicest pair, but still... they’re overalls.

“We’ve got a surprise treat for you all tonight.” She beams out at the audience. “Make some fucking noise for our friends here at the Smokeshow, Orpheus Underground.”

The crowd loses their minds. I grin, clapping and whooping along as they appear on stage. Cal appears first, climbing behind his drums with a salute at the crowd. He’s topless and my mouth goes kind of dry as I take him in. He starts up a heady beat that sounds almost like war drums. Then Iri and Dorian join him, both starting up a steady rhythm.

Then, finally, Micah steps onto the stage. The crowd surges closer, whooping and cat-calling, causing Micah’s grin to grow. He scans the audience, clocking me and shooting me a wink that has my stomach swooping.

Their sound is intense and I can feel it right down to my bones. Cal’s a beast on the drums, effortlessly pounding away at them, his arms flying across the kit with a ferocity that's both terrifying and mesmerizing. Sweat glistens on his brow and the sound is primal. Iri keeps up a heartbeat on bass, his body shifting with the beat as he keeps an eye on the other members. Then there’s Dorian, his fingers moving fast as lightning, and I see what Ally and Lila were talking about when they described his movements.

I fan myself with one hand, taking a long drink and sitting forward in my seat. The rest of the crowd is just as mesmerized .

And then Micah starts to sing.

He’s spellbinding to listen to. His voice is raw, raspy, and it hits me somewhere deep in my gut. It’s almost impossible to draw my eyes away. He then lets out a primal scream and the entire room stops still.

And then they launch into a song that’s both heavy enough to feel in my bones and sexy as hell.

Hol-y fuck, they are like nothing else. I lose myself in the sound, tapping my foot and swaying to the beat.

A mosh pit forms and my eyes pop out of my head as I watch a gargoyle head-banging and a bunch of hairy guys that look like they could be shifters plow right into each other.

Ideas start flooding through me as the adrenaline pumps through my body. The entire place is loving them, singing along, their arms reaching out as if to touch them.

If this is how people react to them on a Tuesday evening at some random club, I can’t imagine what their usual gigs are like. I’m mentally designing gadgets that’ll bring the entire thing to another level. Glitter bombs that’ll melt into the audience’s skin and hit them with a second of pure euphoria. Swirling lights that amplify the crowd’s reactions and bring them into harmony. Orbs that change color depending on the crowd’s mood.

My hands are too sweaty to make physical notes, so I have to focus and make mental ones instead.

Forty minutes later, and they’re wrapping up. All four of them are dripping with sweat, their clothes sticking to their bodies like a second skin.

They step off stage and I slide off my stool, slipping out of the door to wait for them around the back.

I don’t have long to wait before they’re joining me. Micah’s grinning widely and he pulls me into a disgustingly sweaty hug.

“What did you think?” Cal asks .

“Amazing,” I reply. “I have so many ideas.”

And my mind and body are both buzzing, my ears are ringing and I’m practically vibrating with excitement.

I DON’T SLEEP.

Instead, I sit in the middle of my massive bed and spread my notebooks out. I’ve got my duffle bag open and I’ve tried out a bunch of ideas. By the time morning rolls around, I stagger into the suite’s kitchen, clutching my latest creation in my hand.

For the first time in a long time, I’m proud of something I’ve put together.

There’s a dining tray set up with fresh coffee, a platter of fruit, and domed dishes of warm pastries. I snag myself a plate and pour some coffee, testing the temperature to ensure it’s safe to neck before I gulp down half of it in one go. I then shove a pastry in my mouth and tear off more than a mouthful, my mouth struggling to stretch around it.

I spin around and freeze.

Three rock stars are sitting in full view and two of them are wearing amused expressions on their faces. That’s Micah and Iri, while Cal is watching me with barely disguised heat. Although he blinks and his expression clears and I might have been imagining his expression. Probably just my overtired brain seeing things.

“Morning.”

“Mmmpf-orning,” I mumble through a mouthful of pastry. Downing more coffee, I chew and swallow furiously until I’m able to look them in the eye again.

“Sleep well?” Micah asks.

“Ah. No,” I reply. “I made something.”

A jolt of uncertainty goes through me. I may have gotten over excited and hyper focused slightly without considering whether it would be a welcome intrusion. I pull out the leather cuff which I’ve attached a bunch of silver balls to. Each of them has a bit of my magic imbibed into them with the same sensation I pushed into Micah yesterday, calm and contentment.

I thrust it at Micah. “You just need to touch one of the little balls when you’re feeling overwhelmed, and it should help.”

He blinks at me, tucking his hair behind his shoulder as he reaches out a hand and takes the cuff. I watch as he runs his index finger over it, his eyes widening.

“You made this?” he rasps, staring at it before switching his hypnotic gaze to my eyes. I nod and can’t help but smile as he holds it out to the other two. Cal brushes one thick finger over one of the balls before staring at me with raised eyebrows.

Iri just smirks. “I knew tracking you down was a genius idea on my part.”

Cal grumbles, “Humble.”

I snort. “It should last for a while, but whenever you need it to be topped up, just let me know,” I tell Micah.

He slips the cuff onto his wrist and lets out a slow breath, meeting my eyes with an intensity in his expression that has my smile wavering. He looks so damn sincere and then his face breaks into a breathtaking smile that has my stomach flipping over itself.

I haven’t felt this alive in a long time, and I’m itching to get to work.